


Avengers: New Beginnings

by dragonnan



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Horror, Canon Compliant, Character Death Mentioned, Dreams and Nightmares, Endgame Reboot: The Fandom Assembles, First in the collection, Gen, Irondad, Major Character Injury, Mental Instability, Mostly Compliant with Infinity Wars, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Horror, Russo Universe Considered an Alternate Reality, Russo Universe Referenced, Universe Prime, set in 2019, spiderson, spoilers for avengers endgame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:40:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonnan/pseuds/dragonnan
Summary: “So is this it, then?  We save the universe but lose our minds?”





	1. Welcome to the New Age

Late afternoon turned the light into golden fire where it seeped along Bleeker Street. Buildings became monuments, in that light. Windows reflected like blinding arrows – the wares on display hidden behind the dazzle. The rush of traffic had ebbed with the approach of the dinner hour. Those walking did so at a languid pace. There was no laughter, though. And, for all of its beauty, no eyes lifted towards the sun. The faces lit with gold were drawn; as though danger loomed just down the next alleyway. As though they were tensed for a tragedy yet to come.

 

 

⎊ ⎊ ⎊

 

 

“The multiverse. An endless landscape of worlds; realms; possibilities. They are as complex as they are varied – a web of interconnected realities; every one impacting the other like neurons across the temporal lobe. Small events are like storms on the horizon. They pass by, unnoticed, by the majority of the world. Larger events are like major earthquakes and are felt across great distances. What we experienced – what you are experiencing – would be comparable to the ancient asteroid strike that wiped out the majority of life on the planet.”

 

Tony hunched over his knees; a cup of tea cold and forgotten at his left elbow. The right; iron hard and cool, creased a painful line into the flesh of his thigh. He'd sat in this same spot; God, it seemed decades ago, and had his personal reality rocked by impossible revelations. The wizard, Strange, stood across from him with the cosmos above; sending bolts of energy from reality to reality. As Stephen lowered his arms, however, the light show faded until all that remained was the two of them. Tony glanced at the cloak. Okay, three of them...

 

His hands shook worse than Stephen's. Well, his left hand, at any rate. The right would never shake again unless something went severely wrong with the mechanics. He clenched a fist of flesh and sat back; swallowing.

 

“So... this is real? The dreams, the...?”

 

Stephen nodded. “There is another reality in which you died to save the universe.”

 

Sketching a tight, painful, smile, Tony scrubbed his fingers across his lips before spreading both hands apart. “Well. Shit. Go me!”

 

Stephen, unsmiling, walked across the room – rolling his shoulders to shrug the cloak; which sailed to the corner where it hovered in an attentive manner. Tony tried not to stare but, fuck, that was disturbing.

 

Lowering himself to a chair near the couch, Stephen spun his fingers and the tea in Tony's cup began to steam.

 

“You must be great at parties. You able to turn water into wine, too?” Tony took a sip; convinced Stephen waited for that exact moment to reply.

 

“Yes.”

 

He managed, just, not to sputter. Licking Darjeeling from his lips, he rested the cup back in its saucer. He was finding it, astoundingly, difficult to craft conversation. He should have brought the kid along.

 

Pete. Okay, yeah, so the kid hadn't exactly been chatty either. In fact, the last time they'd been in the lab, together, Peter had spent the entire four hours hunched over the new stealth suit Tony had been designing for him; a haunted look badly hidden on his face. And, really, it wasn't just the kid and him. Since Strange had Harry Pottered their asses from Titan he'd seen far less celebration than saving the universe should have warranted. In a way, it was like they hadn't won a damn thing.

 

Fingertips had been rubbing up and down smooth armor. As soon as his mind caught up with the action, Tony dropped his hand. Weird. It still hurt.

 

“So is this it, then? We save the universe but lose our minds?”

 

Stephen held the tips of his fingers together. “As the ripples fade the impact will lessen. And, for most, it will become nothing more than an occasional bad dream.”

 

Tony held his fingers against his mouth. “Most?”

 

Maybe Strange had heard the tiny tremor in his voice because his face took on a look that was softer than anything Tony had seen directed towards him, previously. “You were ground zero. There is a chance the effects will fade. However...”

 

“It's most likely permanent.” Strange didn't nod but Tony saw the confirmation. Yeah. Rubbing his eyes he allowed himself a slump; still healing injuries pulling with the new position.

 

“Tony...”

 

Stephen waited until Tony had scratched his scalp, shifted his ass on the 'could be plusher' couch cushions, and lifted his eyes.

 

“There may be a way I can help...”

 

Tony clacked his teeth together thoughtfully. “You couldn't have led off with that?”

 

Still not smiling, though his eyes may have creased just a little, Stephen stood again and held out a shivering hand. “Come with me.”

 


	2. Digging Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen calls on some friends. Tony faces some old fears. Meanwhile, the rest of the planet tries to pull itself free from the mud and blood left behind after the planetary war.

_Stephen had limped to Tony's side; neither man quite up to the task of movement but the doctor, at least, was merely bleeding internally. Tony's injury was a hair from fatal but his quick patch job would hold long enough._

 

“ _My apologies, Mr. Stark, but there isn't exactly time to be gentle.”_

 

_Quill came to a landing in that moment; his helmet retracting from his face. “Did we just lose?”_

 

_Raising his hands, the doctor shook his head. “Not yet. But we will if we don't go; now!”_

 

 

‎⎊ ‎⎊ ‎⎊

 

 

Tony hadn't been to this part of the Sanctum before. Actually, last time, he'd barely made it into the lobby before the Krispy Kreme of space invaders had rolled into town and beamed them up and... did that vase just wink at him?

 

He walked backward, still eyeing the tall pottery with the figures circled around its base, of which one had seemingly just flirted with him. He continued backing, in fact, until his shoulders pressed against the heavy brocade of Stephen's cloak – the outerwear giving him a light shove in return.

 

Lifting his hands, Stephen crooked his fingers and began rotating the left in what was now a very familiar gesture. A golden portal grew to life – orange fire spraying from the rim. Little could be seen on the other side, however.

 

“I'll be right back.” Stephen moved forward, only to pause, and glance over his shoulder. “You might want to wait here.” And then he stepped through.

 

Tony fiddled his fingers at his side for only a second; blinking rapidly at the open portal and the black beyond. He rubbed at the sweat collecting on his forehead. “Fuck it, what the hell.” He stepped through.

 

Eyes busy adjusting to the shift in light levels, he let his feet tell him what they could; metal – some sort of grating by the sound and feel. Behind him, the spinning portal brightened and Tony glanced back in time to see the edges draw together – the sparks gaining in density until it pinched shut. “Okay, guess we're committed then...”

 

The room he was in had a loose kinda submarine feel to it – though he suspected that wasn't the sort of vessel he was on. If the icy sweat beading up on his forehead and rapidly speeding breaths were anything to go by he was in-

 

“Space...” His last step had brought him before a view that was endless stars and orange nebula far different than anything he could see from Earth. “Shit...”

 

Over the engine roar that existed purely inside his skull he noted that the ship wasn't moving. Another part of him, analytical and easily ignoring the growing tremble in his arm and legs, deduced that the reason for this would have to do with the need to open a portal onto a stationary object. Attempting such a feat onto a ship hurling along through the black nothing would probably result in either the ship being torn in half or a certain asshole wizard. Speaking of...

 

“You okay?” Strange had probably heard his muttered panic. Letting one hand reach blindly for something to grip, Tony nearly shouted when it landed on something firm, warm, and flexing.

 

“Jesus!” He stumbled backwards; nearly colliding with Strange, again, and began counting heartbeats while waiting for them to slow. “Hey, Bam Bam Bigelow, how the hell long have you been lurking?”

 

Drax folded his massive arms. “Three hours and twenty-six minutes.”

 

Tony lifted an eyebrow.

 

At the same time, something growled just beyond the edge of Strange's cloak. “You have not. You're such a liar. I, on the other hand, have been waiting for you guys to quit yakking and get this over with. It's not like we're on a schedule or anything!” Rocket shoved at the heavy fabric; only for the cloak to swat him back; nearly knocking the space raccoon off his paws.

 

Stephen merely sighed and turned back towards the larger room behind him while Rocket bared his teeth. “You better watch that thing, Doc, or I swear I'll sew Drax a new pair of underwear!”

 

Drax bellowed with laughter as he followed his tiny companion. Meanwhile, Tony grabbed a few more breaths before forcing calm into his leaping nerves. Not that it worked but he could at least fake it until they were back on Earth.

 

Trailing after the unlikely crew, he entered a small meeting room, of sorts. He knew this room. He'd been here, before...

 

“ _You have fun?”_

 

“ _It was fun...”_

 

His eyes closed – pinched tight as vertigo shook through his limbs – reality and altered reality begging for attention with a nauseous wave through his gut.

 

Hard to be the center of focus, amongst this particular gathering, but Tony was fine with that. He preferred his break downs pass below the radar whenever possible.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Obviously not so unnoticed, then. The cute chick with the bug ears was a few inches to his right and was ogling him with eyes that were large, dark, and innocent enough to give the kid a run for his web shooters.

 

“Hm? Yeah, fine. Just a little, uh, portal lag.”

 

Quill had just descended from the upper half of the ship – though of Treebeard and the Hulk-hued Xena there was no sign. Presumably they were both up in the cockpit. Somebody had to keep an eye on the road, anyhow. Were there traffic laws in space? Tony rubbed cold fingers across his lips.

 

“You seem... anxious.” Mind already listing somewhere towards depleted oxygen and slow starvation, Tony only just kept his startle at bay at the tentative reminder that he wasn't forgotten. Mantis had her head tilted – her slim little feelers dipping in his direction.

 

“If you would like, I can ease your mind.”

 

Tony gestured towards her antennae. “That little sleeping trick? Yeah, I'll pass. Sleep and I don't have a really good history.”

 

“You have bad dreams?” If not for the pure innocence of her nature, the query would seem prying rather than simply uncomfortable. Tony shrugged while making every effort not to turn towards the viewing pane at his back. He shuddered, though, just knowing it was there.

 

“I can give you rest without dark dreams. Without... fear.”

 

Smirking was forced but it helped a bit, a very little bit, to stave off the ice sliding up his throat. “You sound like my first babysitter; she was big into the whole beads and bare feet thing.” He blinked; the tight metal enclosure shifting to warm wood and crackling fire. “...off the grid...”

 

He didn't know he was stumbling until everything went sideways and in an instant slim hands were pressed against his shoulders. Tony jolted, and...

 

“ _...you can rest now...”_

 

He body slumped into cool water.

 

 

‎⎊ ‎⎊ ‎⎊

 

 

Stephen slipped an arm around Stark's shoulders just as the other man passed out – easing him to the floor. He glanced up at Mantis, whose eyes were wide and liquid; lips pressed tight together.

 

“How long will he sleep?”

 

The young woman shifted her feet; hands held together at her chest. “I did not ask him. He was afraid...”

 

Two fingers against Tony's pulse, assured he was stable and breathing easily, Stephen stood and placed his hands against Mantis's shoulders in a gentle touch – feeling the flow of her empathic gift like a cool ripple through his limbs. “It's okay. It wasn't your fault. He was already exhausted and all you've done is provide him with rest that he would otherwise have not had.” He gave her a small squeeze before releasing her again.

 

Her brow smoothing, Mantis nodded. “He will sleep for at least two days. I was able to mute the effects of his connection. However, this will not last. Eventually the dreams... the memories... will come back.”

 

Stephen pressed a hand against her arm before turning back to Stark. Shrugging free of the cloak he stepped back while it wrapped around the unconscious form.

 

“Thank you.”

 

The woman smiled. “It was my pleasure. Please let me know when you need my help again.”

 

Stephen opened a portal; allowing the cloak to carry Tony through first. “I will. Please tell Quill that I appreciate him taking the time to allow us to board.”

 

A shout from a distant room carried after him through the portal. “Quill would accept thanks in the form of thirty cheesesteaks!”

 

“With onion rings!” Chipped in Rocket.

 

Stephen smirked but made no reply as he allowed the portal to close at his back.

 

Rather than the Sanctum, he had opened the new portal directly into Tony's penthouse. Once Tony was settled on his bed, Stephen called Pepper.

 

“ _How is he; did he agree...?”_

 

“He's fine.” Stephen pulled the bedroom door mostly shut before moving towards the kitchen. “He will likely sleep for a few days. He really should have someone here with him until he awakens. In the mean time he will remain undisturbed unless an outside force jolts him awake.”

 

“ _Thank you, Stephen. I cannot possibly express how much this means. I'm leaving the office right now and should be home in about fifteen minutes. Would you mind staying there until I get home? I can pick up dinner for both of us.”_

 

There was only a brief hesitation. However, as Wong regularly reminded him, he did need to eat on occasion. “That sounds great. I'll see you shortly.” Hanging up, he slid into one of the tall bar stools fronting the large, marble topped island. The cloak released, the moment he'd settled, and glided across to the wide picture window overlooking Central Park.

 

Tomorrow he'd convene a gathering of the Sanctum masters to determine a course of action regarding the threat to the multiverse. For tonight, however, he was willing to let the endless weight ease from his shoulders for just a while. Long enough for a breather. Because he feared, truthfully, that it would be one of the few allotted him in the days to come.

 

 

‎⎊ ‎⎊ ‎⎊

 

 

**Jersey City: 6:00pm**

 

 

The thick rubber soles of her boots crunched against the scattered stone and charred brick. Wide scars still looked fresh where the assault from the skies had ripped apart this once thriving city. Natasha pushed sweat slick hair from her forehead and toggled the switch on her wrist communicator.

 

“All clear in grid 12. I'm going to give it one more sweep before joining you. How do things look on your end?”

 

There was a soft sound somewhere behind her but when Natasha turned there was nothing but a half toppled gate – the leading edge rocking in the breeze.

 

“ _Sam and I found a collapsed shelter. We're pulling out casualties now.”_

 

Steve's voice was sombre. From a distance Natasha could just make out his hunched form near a barely standing structure that appeared to have been a mosque at one point. “Any survivors?”

 

A beat, a breath eased in and out... _“No.”_

 

Eyes closed long enough to take in her own breath, Natasha nodded with nobody to see the gesture. “Copy. I'll meet up with you in twenty.” And, really, they didn't expect to find any, now. The majority of the rescues had come within the first 78 hours. After that, the living had been fewer and farther between. In the last week, they had only found a single individual – alive only because of a broken water pipe beneath the rubble where she'd been buried.

 

There was another scrape. Natasha whirled; arms raised in an automatic defensive stance so ingrained that it took a beat to realize the figure standing behind her was a young girl; dark brown hair matted to her face along one side with long dried blood. Her wrist lifted to her lips even as Natasha held up the other in a soothing gesture at the girl's terrified cringe.

 

“Hey, I've got someone here. She's injured. Have medical ready to receive her when I get to them.” Then, kneeling where she'd been standing, Natasha released the clasp on her canteen; holding it out to the girl.

 

“It's going to be okay. I'm a friend. My name is Natasha but you can call me Nat.”

 

The girl sucked at her swollen bottom lip but made no move towards the water. Pulling it back towards herself, Natasha unscrewed the cap and took a small sip. “Sorry, it's a little warm. But I can get you something cold back at the medical tent. Maybe something to eat?” She held out the canteen once more.

 

Hesitant, still, the girl's fingers twitched. Long enough without water, though, she finally took the three steps needed to accept the canteen; drinking several deep swallows as spilled water trickled down her neck and soaked the collar of her filthy tee. Natasha smiled at the figure screen printed on the front.

 

“You like the Hulk? You know, he's a friend of mine. He's actually here if you want to meet him. Would you like that?”

 

Brown eyes blinked wide over the rim of the canteen. After another moment, the child nodded.

 

Natasha kept her breath measured; slowly holding out her hand but keeping to a crouch. Just as slowly, the girl took a final step forward – sliding her fingers into Natasha's glove. Though she wanted to pick up the girl and race with her to medical, Natasha only held her hand; rising to start leading her back towards the white tent roughly 200 yards away.

 

“You know my name. Would it be alright if I knew yours?”

 

The girl still held the canteen in her free hand, though she hadn't sipped from it again. She couldn't have been more than six years old at the most. Natasha wondered if the trauma had left her mute. Not unheard of – she herself had spent nearly four months completely silent when she was twelve. Eventually, though, they had... cajoled her... into speech...

 

The whisper of a voice that emerged, though, erased that particular concern as the girl finally spoke in the precise articulation of young child.

 

My name is Kamala. Kamala Khan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how much I'll explore Kamala in this particular story as the main focus will be mostly on the original Avengers along with Stephen and Peter Parker. However, I thought she would be a fun character to add to the mix.

**Author's Note:**

> Going forward, I will not be writing any stories that consider the Russo Universe to be pure canon save in the sense that what they created was an alternative reality. If I reference it at all it will only be in that sense. I have NO disrespect for anyone who loved Endgame. Everyone should be allowed to enjoy what they enjoy just as anyone should be able to dislike certain things as well. I'm hoping, with this take on the universe presented by the Russos, to find a place for both points of view. The last thing I ever want to see is Fandom collapsing into battling sides. Civil War may have happened on screen but it doesn't have to happen amongst all of us who love these characters! :)
> 
> One last bit: This story will eventually be added to a new collection I'm building which will create a canon divergent from both Civil War and Endgame. I'm building plots for all of the characters which will result from the changes to filmed canon events. I would love for other writers and artists to submit works to this collection, which is titled: "Marvel's Endgame Reboot: The Fandom Assembles".
> 
> All my love! 
> 
> Fandom Assemble!


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